


The Wedding Toast

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [89]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sally Donovan, Backstory, Drunk Mycroft Holmes, Embarrassed Mycroft Holmes, Embarrassment, F/M, First Meetings, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Handcuffs, Kissing, POV Mycroft Holmes, Patrol Cop Sally, Relationship History, Sally Donovan & Greg Lestrade Friendship, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Toast, Weddings, wedding gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 20:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12689958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sally reveals thetruemeaning of handcuffs and her and Mycroft's relationship at their wedding.





	The Wedding Toast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/gifts).



> So this is a belated Halloween gift for **Dreamin** based on a prompt I was sent (" _Salcroft - you’re a cop here to break up the party but i thought it was a costume and may have made some inappropriate suggestions regarding your handcuffs_ ") that I decided I wanted to tell as an embarrassing story at their wedding. Enjoy!

When it came out that he had been dating Sally Donovan, and for some time, Sally would be asked what, exactly, she saw in him. Every time, without fail. And she said it all had to do with handcuffs. Even though she was an officer of the law, most people did not want to hear _anything_ that involved the two of them and a pair of handcuffs, though if they listened to the story they would find it highly amusing.

Eventually, he decided she should make an honest man out of him, after years of their occasional dalliances turning into a full-fledged relationship after certain events, and then _further_ events convincing them to bring the relationship out into the open. And he had known, by the sparkle in Sally’s eye as she sat next to him in the very beautiful Carolina Herrera wedding gown he was eagerly anticipating removing from her person, that the assorted wedding guests were going to hear the story whether they wanted to or not.

So he was not surprised when the toasts were nearly finished that Sally stood, tapping a fork against her champagne flute, and smiled down at him. “So I think everyone in this room has asked me, at least one, what I see in the Ice Man. But I mention the word ‘handcuffs’ as part of the story and some very dirty thoughts cross your mind and you back out of the conversation or change the topic. So, as my wedding gift to my husband, I am going to go over the embarrassing time he propositioned a cop. That would be me, by the way.”

It seemed as though the chuckles that filled the air said that for years they all really had naughty thoughts on just what handcuffs meant to them.

Sally smoothed the front of her gown and took a sip of her champagne before setting the flute back down. “Halloween evening, 1999. I wasn’t a sergeant yet, still someone who had the unfortunate luck to have to put ends to rambunctious parties and arrest people for...things you lot are probably better off knowing, most of the time, but flouting noise levels and public drunkenness were the two big ones. And that Halloween there was a party in a rather well-to-do area of London that my partner at the time and I did not know was filled with some of the most influential people in British politics, television, theatre and media.”

“Like Rupert Murdoch!” her former partner said from the sea of people in attendance.

“Well, yes, but no names,” Sally said with a smile and a wink. “Remember, they all have ‘plausible deniability.’” The laugh from those who Mycroft knew had _not_ been at that party was heartier than the laughter from those who had. “Anyway, we went in, trying to find the person hosting the party, and we were directed to a bedroom with one occupant, lying in bed with a pillow over his face trying valiantly not to be sick. I lifted up the pillow, and lo and behold, my now husband was underneath, dressed as a court jester.”

He had the decency to blush. One of his few romantic entanglements prior to Sally had ended the evening before, and he’d not had the sense about him to control the party. He very rarely allowed himself to lose control of _anything_ but that had been a particularly hard time with issues regarding Sherlock and Eurus hitting at near about the same time. But he knew what was coming next could not be excused by liquor intake.

“I said ‘You need to get your guests to tone things down, sir,’ and the absolute _filthiest_ suggestions on what could be done with my restraints came pouring out of the mouth of this gentleman,” Sally said with a grin, “followed shortly by vomit landing on my shoes. He was so pathetic looking I didn’t have the heart to arrest him. So I just cited everyone at the party who irritated me.”

She reached for a box that had been sitting at her spot that he’d had no idea what it was, and then winked at her former superior, who she was sure was the only person who had ever sat for the story before. “So, when Mycroft was sober he sent a rather large bouquet of flowers and some lovely chocolate to my flat in apology, along with a new pair of shoes to go with my uniform. I have no idea what he was thinking, but then he came to my flat to add a bottle of wine to the mix. Once I saw him in the suit? I sent him a pair of handcuffs in return. And the rest is history.”

She handed him the box and he opened it. Inside was a pair of steel handcuffs, much different than the ones she used in her day to day job. “Greg says don’t lose the keys. There are certain sights he never wants to see.”

There was uproarious applause at that, and he beckoned for her to lean in. He kissed her softly and then looked down at the handcuffs. “For tonight?”

“For the rest of your life,” she said quietly, kissing him again, more enthusiastically this time. He had the feeling he was going to quite enjoy the married life...


End file.
